You must think it over. Restlessness, then, was the trouble, simple restlessness: home bored her. Degree! degree! She smiled on a gallant of high degree. I——” She threw herself into an easy chair. It seemed incredible that she and her aunt were, indeed, creatures of the same blood, only by a birth or so different beings, and part of that same broad interlacing stream of human life that has invented the fauns and nymphs, Astarte, Aphrodite, Freya, and all the twining beauty of the gods. Ruth loved him. He returned, sitting on the floor beside the couch adoring her and stroking her bare arms.
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